A History of the Inquisition of Spain; vol. 3

by Henry Charles Lea

The baptism of Morisco children furnished a perpetual source of irritation. Rigid regulations were prescribed to ensure the administration of the sacrament, as it was essential to their salvation and to rendering them subject to inquisitorial jurisdiction. No Morisco woman was allowed to act as midwife, but in every village there was a Christian midwife, carefully selected and instructed. She kept watch on all pregnant women, under a fine of a hundred reales for every case she missed. After putting the infant to the breast, her first duty was to notify the priest and alguazil, after which she was not to leave the bed-side save for indispensable household duties. The baptism was performed the same day or the next, and careful registers were kept, so that identification could be secured. There is doubtless truth in the universal assertion that, on returning home, the father scraped and washed the spots touched by the chrism, in the belief that he thereby effaced the sacrament.[1026]

PROHIBITED MARRIAGES

Marriage was the source of infinite trouble. The Church had prohibited unions within the fourth degree of kinship and, by inventing spiritual affinity, it had complicated and enlarged the incestuous area while, by assuming for the pope the profitable power of selling dispensations, it admitted that the restriction was purely artificial. Among the Moors, marriage between first cousins was permitted and, as the Moriscos dwelt confined in their Morerías, or in small, isolated villages, without power to change domicile, intermarriage throughout generations had created such complexity of relationship that unions lawful under the canon law must have been exceptional. We have seen the question raised in the Concordia of 1528, with the result that existing marriages and betrothals were dispensed for, but that future ones must conform to the canons. This was a virtual impossibility; the rectors sought to make their subjects purchase dispensations, but we are told that they rarely did so; that, in some places, they merely told the lord that the parties were of kin and that, if he made no objection, the marriage would take place—an indifference for which more than one noble was prosecuted and publicly penanced.[1027] Under such circumstances, there could have been no Christian marriage-rites, and the union was legally pure concubinage, or at best clandestine marriage, which the Council of Trent, in 1563, pronounced invalid.[1028] It was probably the conciliar definitions that induced the Córtes of Monzon, in 1564, to petition that facilities should be afforded for obtaining dispensations from the Commissioner of the Santa Cruzada, who possessed the requisite faculties, and further that the offspring of such unions should be legally legitimate. To this not unreasonable request the bishops of the Council of Valencia, in 1565, replied by threatening excommunication and other penalties on all marrying within the prohibited degrees, and on all concerned in evasions of the canons.[1029]

The matter was universally admitted to be of supreme importance, but it was treated with the customary negligence and procrastination. At length, in 1587, Philip II represented it to Sixtus V, but he only obtained a brief, January 25, 1588, granting to the Valencia bishops, for six months only, faculties to validate such marriages, legitimate the children and absolve the parents in utroque foro, with salutary penance, for all of which no fees were to be exacted. It is not likely that the officials took much interest in performing this gratuitous labor, or that the Moriscos, even if they chanced to hear of the brief, exposed themselves to the annoyances which it entailed. The last recorded action in the matter is that Philip, in 1595, resolved to apply for another brief of the same nature. He doubtless obtained it with the same nugatory result.[1030]

The Moorish rule, to eat no meat slaughtered by the uncircumcised, was made the pretext for some troublesome intermeddling. In the Granada decree of 1526, Charles V forbade all slaughtering by Moriscos, in places where there was an Old Christian; where there was none, the priest was to designate a person to perform the office.[1031] Little attention appears to have been paid to the matter, until Archbishop Ribera issued an edict prohibiting Moriscos from eating meat that had not been slaughtered by an Old Christian. This was trespassing on the jurisdiction of the Inquisition and, in 1579, the Suprema called upon the Valencia tribunal for a report, including what Bishop Gallo of Orihuela had done with regard to the same matter. The tribunal replied that the edict was obeyed, but that the Moriscos would eat no meat slaughtered by Old Christians, except in a few places, under compulsion by their lords. The edict ought to be perpetuated, for the refusal to eat the meat of a Christian butcher was proof of suspicion, requiring prosecution by the Inquisition. In Orihuela there was doubt whether a cow killed at Aspe had been properly slaughtered; the Moriscos refused to eat of it, for which the Murcia tribunal punished a number of them, leading Bishop Gallo to order that, at Aspe and Nobelda, the butchering should be done by Old Christians. It was probably this which led to general legislation forbidding Moriscos to follow the trade of butchers, or even to kill a fowl for a sick man, a law repeated as late as 1595.[1032]

RAVAGES ON THE COAST

Subjected to the perpetual exasperation of interference with their habits and customs, to the oppression of their lords and the persecution of the Inquisition, denied all opportunity to rise in the social scale, forbidden to enjoy the faith of their ancestors, while sedulously trained to hate the religion imposed on them, and despairing of relief in the future, it is no wonder that the Moriscos were discontented subjects, eager to throw off the insupportable yoke and to rise against their oppressors. They were, however, but little more than half a million of souls, weaponless and untrained, in a population of eight or ten millions—a negligible quantity in the vigorous days of Ferdinand and even in the earlier years of Charles V. The Spanish monarchy, however, had squandered its strength on distant enterprises; even before the fearful drain in the Netherlands, the exhaustive effort required to crush the Moriscos of Granada showed that it was already bankrupt in resources. That episode was a warning which Spanish statesmanship might well take to heart, and, year by year, the fear grew greater of what might be the fate of Spain if internal enemies should unite with external.

There had long been a source of humiliation and annoyance, though not in itself of danger, in the ravages of Moorish corsairs along the southern coast, for which the Moriscos were held responsible. Undoubtedly they aided by conveying information, maintaining relations with Barbary, and availing themselves of the razzias to escape thither when they could, but the primary fault lay in the incredible fatuity of a policy, so preoccupied with foreign ambitions and the fatal Burgundian inheritance, that it neglected the protection of the Spanish shores, until it became a proverb that these were the Indies of the Turkish and Moorish sea-rovers.

Complaints of these ravages commence with the Christianization of Granada and continue uninterruptedly for more than a century, while the measures to guard against these attacks were spasmodic and miserably insufficient. Boronat gives a list of thirty-three descents, between 1528 and 1584, but this cannot include the innumerable landings from small vessels to carry away bands of Moriscos and such pillage as could hastily be gathered—little raids such as that picturesquely described by Cervantes, with its characteristic feature of the fortified church, in which the Christians of the sea-coast village defended themselves, while the Moriscos eagerly hurried to embark.[1033] In the larger expeditions, the Moriscos sometimes escaped in considerable numbers. In 1559, Dragut carried off twenty-five hundred; in 1570, all those of Palmera were taken; in 1584, an Algerine fleet removed twenty-three hundred, and the next year another fleet took away the whole population of Callosa, all of which was exceedingly damaging to the lords who lost their vassals.[1034]

These raids were practically unresisted and unavenged, for the coasts were unguarded by land or sea. Occasionally, as in 1519, we hear of a few hundred troops sent, when news was received of an expected hostile fleet: sometimes there were negotiations between the central government and the exposed provinces to maintain a force on the water, but the inadequacy of these precautions is illustrated by the bargaining in 1547, when the Catalan Córtes complained of the irreparable damage inflicted by the Moorish corsairs and asked that six of the Castilian galleys be sent to winter there. Prince Philip would only promise that he would do what was suitable, which brought an offer that Catalonia would equip and man one galley while Valencia promised one or two, and Philip acceded to the request that the Castilian galleys should coöperate with them.[1035] Another expedient was based on the assumed collusion of the Moriscos with the corsairs, and it seemed easier to exclude them wholly from the coast than to guard it effectually. As early as 1507 Ferdinand undertook to depopulate it from Gibraltar to Almería, but the experiment proved a failure.[1036] It was tried again repeatedly, in various savage laws to prevent Moriscos from travelling within prescribed distances from the sea, and from holding communication with the corsairs, but this naturally effected nothing.[1037] In 1604, the Córtes of Valencia even proposed to enlist the coöperation of the Moriscos, by suggesting that they should redeem all Christians captured and enslaved on the Valencian coast, in return for which the rigor of the Inquisition should be relaxed and their evidence against each other should not be required, but it is needless to say that the plan was rejected.[1038]